“You most certainly can,” Penelope said. “You want to drape the felt over this basketball goal?”
Alex gestured to his shoulder. “Probably should have mentioned that my ability to help is limited,” he said.
“Great.” Penelope rolled her eyes and went back to covering the basketball goal.
“Ms. Moore.” Bianca Lewis, one of her third graders, came running up to her. “Mrs. Johnson said she can’t find the plastic skeletons,” Bianca said with more drama than the situation warranted.
“Tell her to look in the old reading lab,” Penelope called from atop the ladder.
“Where?” Renee asked.
“It’s the room next to the teachers’ lounge.” Penelope heaved the felt over the backboard. “They turned the reading lab into storage after they instituted Accelerated Reader and had to move to a bigger room. That’s probably where the rest of the Halloween decorations are.”
“I can go and take a look,” Alex offered.
“That would be wonderful,” Renee said. She turned to Bianca. “Tell Mrs. Johnson it is taken care of.”
Bianca’s little shoulders sagged with relief now that the skeleton crisis had been averted. She took off to tell Mrs. Johnson the good news.
“To have the threat of no plastic skeletons at the Halloween Bazaar be the most pressing problem in your life,” she laughed.
“What’s Halloween without skeletons?” Alex asked. “Let me take a look in that storage room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Renee got so caught up in decorating that twenty minutes had passed before she realized Alex had not returned. She sought out Penelope, and found her emptying apples into an aluminum washtub.
“Have you seen Alex?”
Penelope stood and looked around. “Not since he went in search of the skeletons,” she said. “Maybe they carried him over to the dark side?”
“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time teaching when you could make so much more money as a stand up comedian,” Renee said.
“I tell myself that all the time,” Penelope said, returning to her apples.
Renee deposited the orange and black streamers she’d been about to drape along the snack tables, and headed out of the school gymnasium. She entered the main building through the second set of double doors that were closer to the teachers’ lounge. The door to the storage room was closed.
Renee knocked. “Alex?” She didn’t hear anything, so she turned the knob and pushed. The room was tiny and dark, with only one bulb burning dimly in an old fashioned light fixture. Renee was happy they’d changed the reading lab. She would become claustrophobic cooped up in this little room all day.
“Alex?” she called again, foraying deeper into the room.
“Hey,” he said from behind her.
Renee jumped and screamed. Clasping her hand to her chest, she turned around. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“What?” he asked, holding up a beady eyed bat with a two foot long wingspan.
“What’s been taking you so long?” she asked, stepping over to where he stood among dusty cardboard boxes.
“Sorry,” he said. “I found the skeletons, but there’s a bunch of other stuff, too. I’m still going through boxes.” He handed her the plastic bat, a ghost that would look great hanging from the rim of the basketball goal Penelope had covered, and a thick wad of fake spiderweb.
“Oh, this is cool.” Alex held up a fat gray rat, and Renee screamed so loud she knew someone would come running from the halls in a minute. She held her chest again, breathing hard.
“I’m guessing you don’t like rats,” Alex said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Who does?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Michael Jackson. He dedicated an entire song to a rat.”
“That is so not funny,” Renee said.
“Sorry, I’ve never been known for my sense of humor,” Alex said.
“It’s a good thing you have other qualities going for you,” she said.
He set the rat on the box behind him and stared at her. “You think I’ve got other stuff going for me?” Alex asked, all traces of humor gone from his face.
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Renee answered.
He took a step toward her. “What kind of qualities?” he asked. His stare was so intense it caused her breath to stall in her lungs. “What is it, Renee?” he urged when she didn’t speak.
“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly, breathlessly.
“I’m having the same problem,” Alex said. “Trying to figure out just what it is about you that causes this reaction in me,” he whispered just before his lips touched hers. His kiss was soft, sensual. His lips brushed hers only a few times before his tongue stepped in, invading her mouth with warm, insistent thrusts.
Renee moaned against his mouth, running her tongue along his teeth. Alex wrapped one arm around her, pulling her body against the full length of his. They reclined against the cardboard boxes, the boxes crushing beneath their shared weight.
“Should we be doing this here?” Renee asked.
“Probably not,” Alex replied. He snaked his hand down her stomach and thigh, stopping where her skirt hem met bare skin.
“I don’t care,” Renee said, relaxing her legs, opening them a bit wider to allow him better access.
Alex accepted her invitation, moving his hand to her inner thigh and pushing it under her skirt. “Neither do I,” he said. His fingers brushed across her center, and Renee widened her stance even more, that part of her aching for his attention.
“Alex,” she breathed as he dipped his head between her breasts.
“Yeah?” Alex asked between gentle nips.
“We really should stop,” Renee warned, even though she wanted nothing more than to strip both their clothes off and fulfill the fantasy she’d started having since the day she met him.
“Just a few more minutes,” Alex breathed into the valley of her breasts.
He pushed her skirt to her waist and brought his hands around to grip her butt. His fingers felt so good sinking into her flesh.
He was scary hard, his body like a length of steel against her stomach. He pulled her tighter and his pulsing erection pushed up against that place that was crying out for him. Renee whimpered, gripping his back and cursing the modest layers of clothing that separated her from him.
Alex moved her underwear to the side and slid a finger inside her. Renee exploded, coming hard and fast, her body shuddering as she bit down on her lip to prevent her screams from escaping. Blinking through the sparks of white light shooting behind her closed lids, she opened her eyes and stared up at the water stained ceiling. She didn’t want to think about moving for at least the next five minutes. She heard Alex suck in a breath and saw him wince.
“Is it your shoulder?” she asked.
He nodded, but when she tried to slide from under him, he stopped her with a hand on her spine.
“Just a few more minutes like this,” Alex said. “I just need to feel you against me.”
“You’ll hurt yourself, Alex.”
“No, I won’t,” he replied. “If I do, it would be worth it.”
Shaking her head, she said, “We just made out in the storage room. How clichéd is that?”
“Just because it’s clichéd doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun, does it?” he asked.
“Fun? It was amazing.” She smiled. “But what’s even more clichéd than making out in a storage room is being caught making out in a storage room.”
“I suspect it wouldn’t sit well with Principal Green, either,” Alex said, pushing himself up.
Renee moved her underwear back into place and pushed her skirt down, grateful the soft rayon/polyester blend didn’t wrinkle easily. She accepted Alex’s outstretched hand, then turned to examine the damage they’d done to the boxed up books and manuals they’d used as an impromptu bed.
“Are we going to eventually finish this?” Renee asked.
“I want to,” came his hesitant response. “But there are other things I need to consider,” he said.
“We’re not on any set timetable, Alex. I’m willing to slow it down if that’s what you want.”
“Eventually,” he said, pulling her close for another kiss. “Now that I’ve gotten a taste of you, I won’t settle for anything less than everything.”
Chapter Twelve
Margo added another pinch of salt to the mustard greens simmering atop the stove. She tried to keep her mind occupied by transferring the rest of today’s meal from pots into serving dishes, but at the sound of a car pulling up the drive, she nearly dropped the small casserole dish of buttered corn.
She ran to the kitchen window, her entire body sighing with relief when she saw Jasmine running up the driveway toward the back door.
That Gerald Mitchell was going to give her a heart attack. Before ending their hour long phone conversation last night, he’d told her he would show up for Sunday dinner.
Most of their discussion had centered upon her resistance in taking their relationship public. Gerald had been more than accommodating, understanding that she had other things to consider, like a family and friends who might not be as accepting of him as his daughters were of her, but after six months, he was becoming frustrated. It did seem as if she was ashamed of him, even though nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, Margo was pretty sure she was falling in love with him.
“Lord, help me,” she said under her breath.
Margo heard the screen door slap shut. A second later the kitchen door flew open and Jasmine came barreling through it.
“Grandma.” Her grandbaby ran up to her, arms wide open.
“Hello, my angel.”
“You didn’t go to church, Grandma.”
“No, Grandma was feeling a little tired this morning,” she said, giving Jasmine’s soft hair a kiss.
“Hey, Mama.” Alex walked through the door. “What happened to you this morning?”
“She was sick,” Jasmine provided.
“What’s wrong?” Instant concern clouded Alex’s eyes.
“It’s nothing. Probably just a stomach virus,” she said, jumping on Jasmine’s erroneous excuse.
“Where’s Eli? Maybe he needs to check you out.”
“Nonsense.” She waved him off.
Eli and Monica picked that moment to walk through the kitchen door. Margo had not even heard their car approach.
“Hey, y’all.” Eli entered after Monica, carrying a brown bag that Margo suspected held vanilla ice cream. He’d said he would bring some when she told him she was making peach cobbler for dessert.
“Mama’s sick,” Alex said.
“What’s wrong?” Eli asked, his eyes darting to her.
Margo’s shoulder sagged with a sigh. “I’m fine,” she said.
“Do you have a fever?”
She slapped Eli’s hand as it approached her forehead.
“Goodness, a person can’t have a little stomachache around you people.” Margo picked up the cooking spoon and turned back to her mustard greens.
Monica approached her at the stove. “Why don’t you go lie down, Margo? I can finish up dinner.”
“Really, I’m fine,” Margo insisted. A car door slammed, and her heart nearly stopped beating.
“Somebody else coming to dinner?” Eli asked.
“I—” Fear knotted in her gut as panic held her rooted where she stood. There was a knock at the back door.
“I’ll get it,” Jasmine called.
“No,” Margo yelled, but it was too late. Jasmine had already run onto the porch.
“It’s Uncle Jonathan and Auntie Ivana,” her granddaughter called.
Margo felt her knees go weak with relief. She forgot she’d invited Jonathan and Ivana to dinner to celebrate their engagement.
“Hi, everyone,” Ivana said, her long, flowing sundress hanging perfectly on her willowy frame. “Thanks so much for inviting us to dinner, Margo.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on Margo’s cheek.
Jonathan picked Jasmine up and twirled her around. He planted a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek that had her giggling and squirming like a worm.
“Come on, Ivana, we can talk about wedding plans,” Monica said.
Carrying bowls and platters filled with the food Margo had spent the morning preparing, Monica and Ivana went into the dining room.
“Mama, are you sure you’re okay?” Eli asked.
“I’m fine, Elijah.”
Her cell phone started dancing on the kitchen table. She dashed over to the table and grabbed the cell phone. It was Gerald. Margo opened and shut the phone to stop the ringing.
“Who was that?” Alex asked.
“Wrong number,” she lied. “I want to change out of these clothes before we sit down to eat. You boys go into the dining room and get settled. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Margo closed the door to her bedroom and sank onto the bed. She flipped the cell phone open and dialed Gerald’s number.
“What are you doing?” Margo whispered into the phone as soon as he answered.
“I can’t call you now?”
“Gerald.” She dropped her head into her hand. “I can’t take this much longer.”
A hushed static filled the air before Gerald replied. “Just what does that mean, Margo? Are you saying we’re over?”
“No.” The word rushed out of her.
“Then what?”
“I don’t know.” She rubbed her temple. “I just don’t know.”
“You already know where I stand,” he said.
Yes, she did. Last night, Margo was sure he was going to give her an ultimatum. Even though he didn’t, she was pretty sure it wasn’t far away.
“I just need more time,” she said.
“How much time?”
“Gerald, please don’t ask me that.”
“It’s a legitimate question, Margo. How long am I supposed to remain your dirty little secret?”
“You’re not … I’m just … I don’t know what to do,” she whispered into the phone.
“Margo?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
The sweetly whispered words washed over her like a soothing balm over a long aching sore. Margo covered her mouth with her fist, trying to absorb the sob on the verge of escaping her lips. “Oh, Gerald,” she said.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, sweetheart. But I need you to know how I feel. This isn’t some halfhearted fling to me. I’m in this. Every part of me.”
“Gerald, you know I don’t think of you as a fling,” she said.
“Mama.” Margo jumped at the loud knock on the door. “Mama, we’re ready to start dinner.”
“I’ll … uh, be out in a minute,” she said. “Gerald, I have to go,” Margo whispered into the phone. “I’m just asking that you give me a little more time,” she said.
“Go and have dinner with your family,” Gerald said. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
“Okay,” Margo said. She shut the cellular phone and pressed it to her chest. She feared nothing would appease the ache that had seemed a permanent residence for the six months.
He loved her.
Margo allowed the reality of his words to settle over her; they warmed her from the inside out. She thought about her family just beyond the door, and cold dread stole into her bones again. There was a man out there who loved her, and the people closest to her had no idea he existed.
How would she bring her two worlds together?
“Ms. Moore, can I have a minute?”
Renee’s eyelids slid shut. She turned. The harsh scowl on Rashad’s face clashed with the cheerful painting taped outside Mrs. Kelly’s kindergarten classroom.
“What is it, Mr. Richards?” she asked.
He grabbed her wrist and guided her a few steps down the hall to an alcove that housed a bank of water fountains. “What’s the deal, Renee? Why haven’t
you returned any of my calls?”
“Rashad, please don’t do this,” Renee pleaded. “I told you the last time we talked that I’d rather we just be friends.”
“After everything we’ve been through, you want us to just be friends?”
After everything they’d been through?
“We only went out a few times, Rashad. I even paid my own way. If you consider that dating, then I’m also dating my aunt Lorna, Penelope, and a couple of the girls from my book club. Oh, wait, I’m more than dating them, because a few of them actually picked up the tab once or twice.”
He winced.
“Look, Rashad, I still consider you a friend, and I don’t want to lose your friendship, but we have so little in common.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” He wanted her to be blunt? She could do blunt. “Truthfully, I find most of the things you like to do boring.” His head reared back as if she’d slapped him. “You feel the same way about me. You hate outdoor sports, and watching football, and Eddie Murphy movies.”
“Fine. We don’t match. Does that mean you have to cut me off altogether? I can’t call to say hi?”
Chastised, she apologized. “I’m sorry about that. I got your messages, but I’ve had a busy couple of weeks.”
“Well, do you want to grab some dinner Friday night? As friends.” He smiled. “We both love Thai food.”
She hated to do this, but she needed to be straight with him.
“Rashad, I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to go out anymore, even as friends. I’m seeing someone.”
He laughed, a cynical, condescending snort. “So that’s why you didn’t answer my calls. I should have known.”
The bell ranged.
“I have a class,” Renee said. “So do you.”
“Who is he?” Rashad asked.
“That’s none of your business.”
“It’s the guy working on your aunt’s house, isn’t it? The one who’s volunteering here.”
“Look, Rashad, things don’t have to be awkward between us.”
He snorted. “You really are a cold bitch, aren’t you? I hope that Holmes guy knows what he’s getting himself into.”
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